Feeling Better
by ShannonSto
Summary: GS-oriented. Weekly Improv challenge.


**A/N**: My entry for this week's Improv challenge.  This one was really hard for me; I kept getting stuck after about 300 words.  This is the third draft.  The weekend's news caused my first two drafts to be very caustic and decidedly negative, but I'm feeling better now, so hopefully this is better as well.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own a thing.  If I did, well, let's just say GS shippers may be a whole lot happier.

*^*^*^*^*^*

"You're dating a balloon?"  Sara teased.

"In more ways than one," Warrick added with a smirk.

"Not the balloon—the girl on the balloon!" Nick defended in exasperation. He took his eyes off the road to turn to Warrick, and hissed under his breath, "And you just keep your mouth shut about our shopping trip."

Warrick chuckled. "Someone needs a nap."

Sara put her hand up in front of her with the palm facing outward, the universal "stop" sign. "Hey, you know what, I don't want to know about the shopping.  Too much information."

"I'll second that," Brass agreed.  When Nick suggested the four of them ride to the crime scene together, Brass hadn't been able to immediately think of a reason to argue.  Now, of course, the reason was glaringly obvious.

Their Denali was passing by a local car dealership, prompting Nick to regale its occupants with tales of his evening with the dealership's spokeswoman.  Her image was preprinted on the brightly colored balloons framing the large "Spring Blowout" banner.  The young CSI had been quite proud to point at the display with a shout of "There she is!"

"You guys are so jealous!" Nick grinned. "She is totally h-o-t-t hot."  The Texan, undaunted by the teasing, pressed forward with the vivid details of his date with Tina, careful not to omit a moment.  "…So I slipped the maitre' d a twenty and he gave us a table by the window…"

Brass leaned over and whispered conspiratorially into Sara's ear. "Let's hop out and make a break for it at the next light. I'll hotwire one of those Toyotas."

Sara couldn't stifle her laughter.  Befuddled, Nick glanced in the rearview mirror.  He hadn't gotten to his joke yet.  What could they possibly find so funny?

They drove on for a few more blocks before Warrick decided the time was right to steer the conversation in another direction.  "What's up with Greg?  He grabbed me in Trace and practically begged me to have the samples in by ten."

"He nagged me into betting him that he couldn't have our results by six," Sara answered with a grin. "He's still trying to get his money back from the jell-o fiasco."

They arrived at the crime scene a few minutes later.  And a stunning crime scene it was.  It was difficult to tell if this was a residence or a junkyard; there were two broken down cars on blocks, assorted garbage and equipment everywhere and numerous holes in the chain link fence.  Sara wondered sourly about the reason was the knee-deep grass and weeds.  Was the overgrowth an attempt to hide the mess, or did the owner have a phobia of lawnmowers?  He clearly wasn't afraid of any other motor-driven yard implements, or so one could assume from the chainsaw placed next to the dismembered dead tree.

The body had been found between the pile of wood and a stack of cement blocks.  The homeowner appeared quite distraught, and though he had yet to be definitively ruled out, he was not seriously considered a suspect.  A neighborhood teen had chased his basketball into the yard and discovered the grisly dump site.

Sara and Brass decided to work the body while Warrick checked the rest of the yard and Nick snapped the photographs.  

"You're in a good mood today," Brass noted.

Sara merely shrugged.

"Any particular reason?"

"Like what?" Sara asked coyly.

"I'm thinking you were off last night…and Grissom was off last night…am I getting warmer?"

Verbally, Sara neither confirmed nor denied Brass's suspicion, but the blushing grin that crept over her face betrayed her.

Brass smiled broadly. "That's it, isn't it?  Come on, the others aren't within earshot.  'Fess up."

"Can we just process the scene?" Sara tried to change the subject.

"Hey, you're the CSI.  I don't do that anymore, remember?  I should be talking to Harry Homemaker over there."

Sara arched an eyebrow and grinned teasingly. "Then why are you bugging _me_?"

"It's more fun.  Besides, this is important, too."

"How so?"

"You and Grissom…well, okay, mostly Grissom, you guys are so wrapped up in your denial that it's beginning to have effects on the job." Seeing Sara's shocked and defensive expression, he waved an arm. "I'm not saying you guys are screwing up cases or anything—I know you too well for that. I'm just saying that the tension has kind of a ripple effect, you know?  So if you two are working things out, I couldn't be happier for you."

"No comment."

"He's really got a thing for you."

Sara sighed deeply.  "But he said he couldn't do it."

"What? You heard that?"

"I was in the observation gallery," she confessed.

"Did you tell him?"  
  


"Not at first…but we've talked.  We worked through some things."

"So you _were_ with him last night."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't deny it either," Brass pointed out.  "And you're all smiley and joking today."

Sara feigned indignation. "Hey! You make it sound like I'm usually this grumpy uber-bitch.  I smile."

"I didn't say that," he threw her own words back at her. "I don't think I've ever seen you be a bitch—except to that Shelton wife-beater, and he deserved it.  It's just that lately, you've seemed really down."

"It's going to get better now, I think." The corners of her mouth turned upward again.

"But you're still not gonna admit why."

"Nope."

"Wow," Brass laughed. "You and Gil really are perfect for each other."

"Thanks.  Make yourself useful and hand me a bindle from my kit."  She pointed to where her kit lay at the other side of the woodpile. 

Brass shook his head as he tripped over the debris.


End file.
